Date: Fri, 6 Sep 2002 11:14:35 -0700 (PDT)
From: mv
Subject: Washington Conference
Washington Conference
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(Fiction - usual disclaimers apply)
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Jeff and I were friends all through college. We were in the
same Calculus I class in fall of our freshman year. We
started working on homework sets together and preparing for
tests together. We both runners, so we also started
running together, usually as something of a study break.
Over the years, we took a few classes together, went to a
few parties together, and mostly we ran together twice a
week, every week, rain, shine, or snow, for most of four
school years -- every Thursday night at seven-thirty, every
Sunday morning at eight. Thursdays we would run, then
shower at our own dorms, then get back together to work and
split either a pizza or take out from a local Chinese
restaurant -- foods I'd never eat today, but that was then.
Sundays we would run, have breakfast, then go our ways.
Jeff was my friend outside the group I tended to hang with,
and one of only a few real friends I had in college.
In the fall of our senior year, I bought a car -- a very used
Volvo 240 wagon -- and I brought it to school. It was just
time to have a car. Remember though, 240's were newer back
in 1979.
One February weekend, we decided that we would go on a ski
trip. We started out before five on Saturday morning, drove
four hours, and then skied all day.
After skiing, we changed into street clothes at the lodge
then picked up a pizza on the access road to eat on the way
home.
I started to drive home, but perhaps a half-hour into the
quiet trip home I started to nod off, and I scared myself
badly enough to stop. Then Jeff took a turn, and made it
about another twenty minutes. Eventually, we pulled off the
road and parked behind an old, permanently closed gas
station.
Originally, we had planned a day trip, but we were far too
tired to drive home, and we recognized that. We decided to
sleep for an hour then try again. We slid the skis and poles
to one side of the back, put on our hats and jackets (the
car and the heat would be off) took off our
shoes, and stretched out as well as we could.
I was a compulsive masturbator back in college. I mean it.
I masturbated every morning and every night without fail.
Of course, getting up at four-thirty to go skiing, I had
skipped it that morning. I compare it to skipping my
morning coffee today. By the time we stopped behind the gas
station, I was ready. So ready, in fact, that I couldn't
sleep. Instead, I waited until I was sure Jeff was asleep,
and in the quiet presence of his even breaths, I tried to
move far enough away from him that he wouldn't feel my
movement. Of course, I could only get so far away, sharing
the back of a 240 wagon with another six-foot-tall guy, two
pair of skis, two pair of poles, two pair of ski-boots, two
pair of shoes, and some other random gear.
But I was an ambitious and needy virgin back then, and far
more fearless, probably due to the intensity of the need. I
quietly unbuckled my belt, slowly unbuttoned the fly of my
jeans, and slid my hand down into my briefs to meet my
penis, which was already hard with anticipation.
I closed my eyes.
Then I felt the warmth of Jeff's hand on my stomach. The
warmth slid down my pants, between my hand and my penis.
This was an amazing feeling -- having someone else place a
hand on my penis. He started to squeeze and pull a little,
and I started unbuckling his belt, unbuttoning his pants, as
my body thrilled to the wonder of touch. He pulled his hand
out of my pants to take his own pants all the way off. We
took off our clothes, then, realizing how cold it was, I put
my ski jacket back on, and Jeff did the same.
We lay in the back and masturbated each other in our hats
and our open ski jackets, first gently, then fast and
furious until he came, shooting gism on to my bare chest and
belly. It was SO sexy I came to an almost immediate orgasm
more powerful than I had ever known, sending my semen all
over Jeff, Jeff's jacket, and into dark unknown corners of
my car. We hugged tightly, thigh to crotch, naked body to
naked body, semen squishing between us, both shaking with
after shocks, both loving the hot warm pressure of penis
against belly, scrotum against leg.
Minutes later -- I have no idea how many minutes -- but after
we had both shrunk down to size, we realized we were cold
and awake, and we dressed, worked our way into the front
seat, and drove home.
Neither of us was comfortable with having had sex together.
This was immediately obvious, and the ride home was awkward.
Our friendship might have recovered, but the following
Thursday we hammered another nail into the coffin.
At eight, Jeff called and asked if we were running as
usual.
"Is it Thursday?" I asked, honestly relieved. We hadn't
talked, and Jeff was a friend I didn't want to lose.
"It is."
"In front of the library?"
"Ten minutes?"
And we were on our way -- the usual route, and the usual
routine. We met in the dorm lobby; we ran the six mile loop
out to the pond and back, gabbing about this and that --
classes, girls, another possible day trip to go skiing; each
back to our own dorms for a quick shower... Jeff came over,
books in hand, wearing a pair of shorts he had borrowed from
me after a run, and an old cotton t-shirt that had as many
holes as remaining stitches.
"Those my shorts?" I asked.
"Yep. Want them back?"
"Some day."
I turned to face him to ask whether we were ordering pizza
or Chinese food. I could see the hair under one armpit
through a hole, the edge of one nipple through another. I
wanted him again. I must have paused; he must have read me
-- I'm sure I was an open book.
Jeff placed his hand over my shorts cupping my penis which
hardened to meet his warmth. I slid my hands up his warm
smooth sides, pulling the remains of his shirt up with my
hands. He lifted his arms and I pulled the shirt over his
head. He pulled my shirt open, popping the two buttons I
had bothered to button across the room and we embraced,
chest to chest, bulging shorts to bulging shorts. His hands
slid down my back, cupping my but cheeks. One finger found
its way to in my crack and gently tickled my anus. I lost
control. I pulled my shorts down and stepped out. I pulled
his shorts down. He stepped out. We kissed and our tongues
found each other. I pulled him into bed on top of me. He
spun around, his penis dangling over my mouth, and I drew it
in slowly, feeling my lips slide over his smooth head, over
his soft and firm glans, onto his long and hard shaft, and
my tongue found his slit as I felt my own penis sucked into
Jeff's warm mouth. I sucked harder and then came quickly,
sending all I had deep into Jeff's mouth, feeling my penile
thrusts down into my legs and up into my chest. Jeff came
almost immediately after I did, and I sucked the cum out of
his penis in long deep pulls until there was nothing left
and his penis had shrunk back down to it's soft and
transportable state.
We lay there for a while, then dressed, washed up, and
ordered pizza, and studied as if nothing had happened.
Of course, something had happened, and it was something we
were both deeply uncomfortable with. We barely talked after
that. In the Spring, we had dinner once -- almost a
formality -- exchanged addresses -- I was on my way to a
software job in Cupertino. Jeff was going to B-School in
Chicago. We talked about our futures, the details of our
plans, shook hands, exchanged addresses, and never called.
Then one day twenty-something years and two kids later, I went
to a conference in Seattle, and there he was, working the booth
for a B-to-B / E-Commerce company.
"Hi" I said.
"Hi" he said.
Pause.
"What are you doing for dinner?" he asked.
"No plans yet. Can we do dinner and catch up?" I said.
"Come by at five-thirty; we'll be wrapping up and we'll make
a plan. We can catch up."
At five-thirty, the show was closing, and exhibitors were
busy locking up valuable items and powering-down
demonstration systems. We talked for a few minutes,
covering the high-level. "Still in Chicago. You?" "Palo
Alto, working in San Francisco." We arranged to meet at
half-past-seven at a fish restaurant I knew that has a patio
over looking Lake Union. I went back to the hotel to
change, unwind, and take in this chance meeting.
I walked to the restaurant and got there just as Jeff was
getting out of a cab wearing jeans, button down, a cotton
sweater, and last year's running shoes. Jeff was the very
picture of modern suburban bliss.
We talked about this and that. Jeff and his wife have a boy
and a girl, five years and three. I have twins. Girls.
Two years ago. Jeff stayed in Chicago after B-School. Now
he and a partner are running a new company generator. We
eventually bought a house in Palo Alto. I still write
software. He was staying downtown at the Four Seasons. I
was staying at the Silver Cloud. Still running? Still
running. Ever race? No. On and on -- engaging -- avoiding.
After the plates had been cleared, we continued to hang out
and talk.
Eventually, there was a pause in the conversation, and after
a minute, I went to the place we hadn't gone.
I looked directly at Jeff. "We should have talked." I
said.
"We weren't ready to do that back then." Jeff said.
"I guess not." I said.
He studied his wine glass. I watched a couple of boats go
by.
"The sex was amazing." he said, still studying his wine
glass.
"It was amazing." I said. "I've never been able to forget
the feeling of..." I stopped. That wasn't somewhere I was
ready to go. "It was fast, furious, and frantic." I said.
"Done it since?" Jeff asked.
"No, not that. On a different track. Family and all.
You?"
"No" he said, then "I'm glad I'm not gay. I love my family.
I love my kids."
I looked at him across the table. His eyes met mine. We
stayed like this, stuck, for a minute, until he freed us.
"Let's go somewhere and have sex" he said.
"Silver Cloud is a walk away." I said, my heart racing with
the sudden and earnest honesty.
I can remember every detail, as if that evening were
happening again, right now.
We pay the check and walk to the hotel without saying
anything together. Up the elevator in silence -- bing -- 2 --
bing --3 -- bing -- fourth floor, doors open, down the hall --
423 -- 424 -- 425 -- keycard -- door swings in and I hold it.
Jeff walks in, scrapes off his shoes with his feet and pulls
his shirt over his head. His body is tan, lean, muscular as
it was back then. I pull my shirt, sweater, and t-shirt off
together in one motion and I wrap my arms around Jeff to
feel his warm chest against my chest, his penis bulging
through his pants to meet my own bulge, the touch sweet deep
and urgent.
I don't want this to be over in five minutes. "I want to
take a cold shower." I tell Jeff. "I want this to go
slowly."
We kiss, and I take off my pants, aware of Jeff's eyes on my
own body. I feel fit and sexy, and I enjoy showing off as I
slowly slide down and step out of my pants, then my briefs,
my long hard penis slapping up against my tummy as I bend
over.
Alone, in the bathroom, I take a slow deep breath and step
without thought into the strong and shockingly cold spray.
Armpits. Penis. Anus. Clean, calm, and a little numb, I'm
about to turn off the shower when the door opens and Jeff
walks in, Naked.
"Fuck me." he says softly. "Fuck me in the shower."
I turn the water to a warmer temperature and Jeff steps in.
I lather up some soap with my hands. I wash Jeff's chest,
then his penis as his hands slide smoothly over my nipples
and down my belly to lather up my own penis which rises
again in his warm hands. Jeff turns around and I slide
smoothly, slowly, easily into his ass, reaching around to
hold Jeff's penis in my hands. We just stand like that for
a few minutes -- as long as I can stand, until I can take it
no longer and I thrust into him. "Ohh" he says as my cum
pulses into him, and his own cum streams out hitting the
shower wall in front of us, then hands down from his penis.
We stay like this for a minute, feeling a thousand things,
at least I was -- guilt, fear, sexy reverberations.
This time, though, what has happened is what is. We dry off
and get into bed together, naked, and doze off.
I remember waking at some point in the middle of the night,
feeling the warmth of Jeff's hand on my belly. I reached
down and found his penis with my hand. We kissed -- lips
pressed against lips; the tip of his tongue tickled the tip
of my tongue as Jeff slid one leg over me to straddle me
then spun around, his penis dangling over my mouth. I slid
my hands over his smooth warm butt cheeks and pulled him
lower, drawing his penis into my mouth -- the soft warm head
sliding smoothly between my lips, then over the glans as
Jeff moaned as he slid his hands under my own butt cheeks,
breathed deeply then took my own penis into the warm dark
recesses of his own mouth.
We stayed like this, not daring to move, wanting to stay in
this ecstatic loop forever. His hips moved ever so
slightly. I just touched his penile slit with the tip of my
tongue. His finger slid into my crack and gently found my
anus. I pressed with my hips first down into his finger,
the thrill filling my entire body, then up into his mouth as
I sucked on his penis and pulled his ass to me until I felt
his pubic hair with the tip of my nose and then he came,
spurt after spurt of sweet aromatic gism, and then I came in
great deep spasms, shooting out cum I didn't even know I
had, as if I had been saving it all these years for just
this occasion.
And then it was all over.
Jeff turned around and lay on his back, hands behind his
head, and I lay down, one hand behind Jeff, the other behind
my head, so that I could feel his body next to mine.
Eventually, we got up, washed and brushed, and went back to
bed again.
Jeff woke me up at quarter-to-five.
"Go for a run?" he asked.
"What time is it?" I asked.
"Almost seven in Chicago." was Jeff's reply. "Can I borrow
a pair of shorts?"
I loaned Jeff shorts and a running tank. I wore my own. We
ran around the lake -- about seven miles, and we were in my
room again by seven.
"Breakfast?" asked Jeff? He kicked off his shoes and
pulled off the sweaty tank, then his shorts, quickly as he
probably does every morning before work, between the daily
run and the daily shower. I had taken off my own top, and
without forethought I knelt, still in my shorts and shoes,
in front of Jeff who was sweating and naked in front of me.
I reached and held is balls in my right hand and squeezed
slightly. His penis extended across my wrist and started to
lengthen. I could feel his penis pulse on my wrist. I drew
his penis into my mouth. It tasted of fresh sweat, slightly
salty, and I gave Jeff a blow job, moving with him as he
first leaned against the wall, then lay down on his back on
the floor, then pulled his legs up and open so that my chest
rested on his cheeks. He came in slow deep spurts, moaning
with each one.
"My god." he said as first I stood up, then he stood up.
"Shower?" he added.
We went into the shower together. Facing each other, I
washed Jeff's chest as he worked up a lather between his
hands and my painfully hardening penis. Jeff turned around
and I slid my penis into his ass, slowly, centimeter by
centimeter, until I felt his cheeks against my thighs.
Jeff moved up and down slowly. I came quickly, easily, and
a little painfully.
We dried, dressed, and found a small place breakfast. Over
pancakes and coffee we talked about this, and that -- kids,
family, school. Then Jeff went to work, and so did I. As
the show was wrapping up, we shook hands like business
associates and went back home to our lives, to our families.
We haven't talked since.